第 17 页

blue smoke-rings as they chased each other up to the ceiling.

"I think, Watson," he remarked at last, "that of all our cases

we have had none more fantastic than this."

"Save, perhaps, the Sign of Four."

"Well, yes. Save, perhaps, that. And yet this John Openshaw

seems to me to be walking amid even greater perils than did the

Sholtos."

"But have you," I asked, "formed any definite conception as

to what these perils are?"

"There can be no question as to their nature," he answered.

"Then what are they? Who is this K. K. K., and why does he

pursue this unhappy family?"

Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and placed his elbows upon

the arms of his chair, with his finger-tips together. "The ideal

reasoner," he remarked, "would, when he had once been shown

a single fact in all its bearings, deduce from it not only all the

chain of events which led up to it but also all the results which

would follow from it. As Cuvier could correctly describe a

whole animal by the contemplation of a single bone, so the

observer who has thoroughly understood one link in a series of

incidents should be able to accurately state all the other ones,

both before and after. We have not yet grasped the results which

the reason alone can attain to. Problems may be solved in the

study which have baffled all those who have sought a solution by

the aid of their senses. To carry the art, however, to its highest

pitch, it is necessary that the reasoner should be able to utilize all

the facts which have come to his knowledge; and this in itself

implies, as you will readily see, a possession of all knowledge,

which, even in these days of free education and encyclopaedias,

is a somewhat rare accomplishment. It is not so impossible,

however, that a man should possess all knowledge which is

likely to be useful to him in his work, and this I have endeav-

oured in my case to do. If I remember rightly, you on one

occasion, in the early days of our friendship, defined my limits

in a very precise fashion."

"Yes," I answered, laughing. "It was a singular document.

Philosophy, astronomy, and politics were marked at zero, I

remember. Botany variable, geology profound as regards the

mud-stains from any region within fifty miles of town, chemistry

eccentric, anatomy unsystematic, sensational literature and crime

records unique, violin-player, boxer, swordsman, lawyer, and

self-poisoner by cocaine and tobacco. Those, I think, were the

main points of my analysis."

Holmes grinned at the last item. "Well," he said, "I say

now, as I said then, that a man should keep his little brain-attic

stocked with all the furniture that he is likely to use, and the rest

he can put away in the lumber-room of his library, where he can

get it if he wants it. Now, for such a case as the one which has

been submitted to us to-night, we need certainly to muster all our

resources. Kindly hand me down the letter K of the American

Encyclopaedia which stands upon the shelf beside you. Thank

you. Now let us consider the situation and see what may be

deduced from it. In the first place, we may start with a strong

presumption that Colonel Openshaw had some very strong rea-

son for leaving America. Men at his time of life do not change

all their habits and exchange willingly the charming climate of

Florida for the lonely life of an English provincial town. His

extreme love of solitude in England suggests the idea that he was

in fear of someone or something, so we may assume as a

working hypothesis that it was fear of someone or something

which drove him from America. As to what it was he feared, we

can only deduce that by considering the formidable letters which

were received by himself and his successors. Did you remark the

postmarks of those letters?"

"The first was from Pondicherry, the second from Dundee,

and the third from London."

"From East London. What do you deduce from that?"

"They are all seaports. That the writer was on board of a

ship."

"Excellent. We have already a clue. There can be no doubt

that the probability -- the strong probability -- is that the writer

was on board of a ship. And now let us consider another point.

In the case of Pondicherry, seven weeks elapsed between the

threat and its fulfillment, in Dundee it was only some three or

four days. Does that suggest anything?"

"A greater distance to travel."

"But the letter had also a greater distance to come."

"Then I do not see the point."

"There is at least a presumption that the vessel in which the

man or men are is a sailing-ship. It looks as if they always seni

their singular warning or token before them when starting upon

their mission. You see how quickly the deed followed the sign

when it came from Dundee. If they had come from Pondicherry

in a steamer they would have arrived almost as soon as their

letter. But, as a matter of fact, seven weeks elapsed. I think that

those seven weeks represented the difference between the mail-

boat which brought the letter and the sailing vessel which brought

the writer."

"It is possible."

"More than that. It is probable. And now you see the deadly

urgency of this new case, and why I urged young Openshaw to

caution. The blow has always fallen at the end of the time which

it would take the senders to travel the distance. But this one

comes from London, and therefore we cannot count upon delay."

"Good God!" I cried. "What can it mean, this relentless

persecution?"

"The papers which Openshaw carried are obviously of vital

importance to the person or persons in the sailing-ship. I think

that it is quite clear that there must be more than one of them. A

single man could not have carried out two deaths in such a way

as to deceive a coroner's jury. There must have been several in

it, and they must have been men of resource and determination.

Their papers they mean to have, be the holder of them who it

may. In this way you see K. K. K. ceases to be the initials of an

individual and becomes the badge of a society."

"But of what society?"

"Have you never --" said Sherlock Holmes, bending forward

and sinking his voice --"have you never heard of the Ku Klux

Klan?"

"I never have."

Holmes turned over the leaves of the book upon his knee.

"Here it is," said he presently:

"Ku Klux Klan. A name derived from the fanciful resem-

blance to the sound produced by cocking a rifle. This

terrible secret society was formed by some ex-Confederate

soldiers in the Southern states after the Civil War, and it

rapidly formed local branches in different parts of the

country, notably in Tennessee, Louisiana, the Carolinas,

Georgia, and Florida. Its power was used for political

purposes, principally for the terrorizing of the negro vot-

ers and the murdering and driving from the country of

those who were opposed to its views. Its outrages were

usually preceded by a warning sent to the marked man in

some fantastic but generally recognized shape -- a sprig of

oak-leaves in some parts, melon seeds or orange pips in

others. On receiving this the victim might either openly

abjure his former ways, or might fly from the country. If

he braved the matter out, death would unfailingly come

upon him, and usually in some strange and unforeseen

manner. So perfect was the organization of the society,

and so systematic its methods, that there is hardly a case

upon record where any man succeeded in braving it with

impunity, or in which any of its outrages were traced

home to the perpetrators. For some years the organization

flourished in spite of the efforts of the United States

government and of the better classes of the community in

the South. Eventually, in the year 1869, the movement

rather suddenly collapsed, although there have been spo-

radic outbreaks of the same sort since that date.

"You will observe," said Holmes, laying down the volume,

"that the sudden breaking up of the society was coincident with

the disappearance of Openshaw from America with their papers.

It may well have been cause and effect. It is no wonder that he

and his family have some of the more implacable spirits upon

their track. You can understand that this register and diary may

implicate some of the first men in the South, and that there may

be many who will not sleep easy at night until it is recovered."

"Then the page we have seen --"

"Is such as we might expect. It ran, if I remember right, 'sent

the pips to A, B, and C' -- that is, sent the society's warning to

them. Then there are successive entries that A and B cleared, or

left the country, and finally that C was visited, with, I fear, a

sinister result for C. Well, I think, Doctor, that we may let some

light into this dark place, and I believe that the only chance

young Openshaw has in the meantime is to do what I have told

him. There is nothing more to be said or to be done to-night, so

hand me over my violin and let us try to forget for half an hour

the miserable weather and the still more miserable ways of our

fellowmen."

It had cleared in the morning, and the sun was shining with a

subdued brightness through the dim veil which hangs over the

great city. Sherlock Holmes was already at breakfast when I

came down.

"You will excuse me for not waiting for you," said he; "I

have, I foresee, a very busy day before me in looking into this

case of young Openshaw's."

"What steps will you take?" I asked.

"It will very much depend upon the results of my first inquir-

ies. I may have to go down to Horsham, after all."

"You will not go there first?"

"No, I shall commence with the City. Just ring the bell and

the maid will bring up your coffee."

As I waited, I lifted the unopened newspaper from the table

and glanced my eye over it. It rested upon a heading which sent

a chill to my heart.

"Holmes," I cried, "you are too late."

"Ah!" said he, laying down his cup, "I feared as much. How

was it done?" He spoke calmly, but I could see that he was

deeply moved.

"My eye caught the name of Openshaw, and the heading

'Tragedy Near Waterloo Bridge.' Here is the account:

"Between nine and ten last night Police-Constable Cook,

of the H Division, on duty near Waterloo Bridge, heard a

cry for help and a splash in the water. The night, however,

was extremely dark and stormy, so that, in spite of the help

of several passers-by, it was quite impossible to effect a

rescue. The alarm, however, was given, and, by the aid of

the water-police, the body was eventually recovered. It

proved to be that of a young gentleman whose name, as it

appears from an envelope which was found in his pocket,

was John Openshaw, and whose residence is near Horsham.

It is conjectured that he may have been hurrying down to

catch the last train from Waterloo Station, and that in his

haste and the extreme darkness he missed his path and

walked over the edge of one of the small landing-places for

river steamboats. The body exhibited no traces of violence,

and there can be no doubt that the deceased had been the

victim of an unfortunate accident, which should have the

effect of calling the attention of the authorities to the condi-

tion of the riverside landing-stages."

We sat in silence for some minutes, Holmes more depressed

and shaken than I had ever seen him.

"That hurts my pride, Watson," he said at last. "It is a petty

feeling, no doubt, but it hurts my pride. It becomes a personal

matter with me now, and, if God sends me health, I shall set my

hand upon this gang. That he should come to me for help, and

that I should send him away to his death --!" He sprang from his

chair and paced about the room in uncontrollable agitation, with

a flush upon his sallow cheeks and a nervous clasping and

unclasping of his long thin hands.

"They must be cunning devils," he exclaimed at last. "How

could they have decoyed him down there? The Embankment is

not on the direct line to the station. The bridge, no doubt, was

too crowded, even on such a night, for their purpose. Well,

Watson, we shall see who will win in the long run. I am going

out now!"

"To the police?"

"No; I shall be my own police. When I have spun the web

they may take the flies, but not before."

All day I was engaged in my professional work, and it was

late in the evening before I returned to Baker Street. Sherlock

Holmes had not come back yet. It was nearly ten o'clock before

he entered, looking pale and worn. He walked up to the side-

board, and tearing a piece from the loaf he devoured it vora-

ciously, washing it down with a long draught of water.

"You are hungry," I remarked.

"Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing

since breakfast."

"Nothing?"

"Not a bite. I had no time to think of it."

"And how have you succeeded?"

"Well."

"You have a clue?"

"I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw

shall not long remain unavenged. Why, Watson, let us put their

own devilish trade-mark upon them. It is well thought of!"

"What do you mean?"

He took an orange from the cupboard, and tearing it to pieces

he squeezed out the pips upon the table. Of these he took five

and thrust them into an envelope. On the inside of the flap he